PMS: Pre Moon Sickness
by MinervaEvenstar
Summary: The hilarious tale of desires. James wants Lily. Sirius wants Remus. The objects of their affection want not to have PMS.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** To my dismay, the characters except Sapphire aren't mine.

_**PMS: Pre Moon Sickness**_

_Minerva's Note:_ For this tale I took some of my favourite lines from a few of my other fics so you lot could enjoy them. Most of it is original for this fic, though.

The prologue and epilogue are from Remus' point of view. Each chapter in between is told from a different character's perspective. I shall not tell you whose! Each new chapter I drop VERY OBVIOUS clues to enable you to perceive who is telling the chappie to you. Yes, you, sitting right there.

By the way, I know that Remus is not actually colourblind, yet the fact that he is in this story is significant to the plot. I got the idea for this from the splendid _Close Your Eyes_ by PsyRae. Enjoy!

Prologue

We were in The Three Broomsticks. I'd rather not be here. There's a Defense Against the Dark Arts exam that I should be studying for, though when I pointed this out to my cohorts they stated that DADA was my best subject and it would be unfair to the other students if I studied too much. Ridiculous. Of course, they always conducted themselves in that mannerism. I would not adore them if they didn't. After all, only such ludicrous individuals would be willing to disobey the law simply to accompany me during my monthly incidents, which coincidentally is in three days. They were more than I'd ever dreamed of.

Still I want more. Selfish, I know. Everyone insists how patient and virtuous I am. I'm not worthy of such compliments, not when I'm so selfish. For years I was content to be liked, however, in recent months I decided I want to be loved also. I should be happy with what I have. Perhaps I could be blissful enough if the individual that I love was not invariably so near.

Yes, it is true love. Believe me. How am I certain? I cannot be glad when he's not; therefore I would sacrifice everything to make him so. I do make sacrifices. I do it constantly. I'm doing it right now.

He's over at the bar chatting up some large breasted girl, and am I attempting to ruin it for him out of envy? Nope. Innocent, kind bookworms don't do things like that.

"Where's your paper bag!" he exclaims in alarm.

"Huh?" She looks over at him as if she has just noticed him; however, I speculate it is a charade. Girls _always_ notice when Sirius Orion Black is in the vicinity. I cannot blame them. It draws my attention as well.

"The paper bag to put over your head," he clarifies.

"Excuse me?" Maybe I was inaccurate. Maybe he is not hitting on her.

"You must hide your loveliness. It's dangerous for somebody like you to be out with all of these horny and randy people around. Don't worry, I'll protect you." And maybe McGonagall doesn't shag Dumbledore in the Hospital Wing closet every Tuesday night. Right.

She giggles, "You look like someone who knows how to have fun."

"And you look a lot like my next girlfriend."

Her giggling increases. I detest her already. "Here." She hands him a piece of parchment that must have her address on it because she requests, "Owl me." Mercifully, she departs and I exhale in relief.

I should not be grateful yet. Sirius beckons a young lady with immaculately manicured nails and a short skirt over, and the gesture is so arousing that my breath catches in my throat. She sits adjacent to Sirius. My heart plummets through my stomach. Could this be a dreadful chocolate-induced nightmare? No, I am plagued with cleverness and know when things are real. "I made you come with one finger. Imagine what I could do with the whole hand."

"Whatever. Did you want something?"

He inquires, "I'm sorry, if I offended you; I just wondered if were you talking to me from over there? I couldn't hear you." Oh Merlin, he's applying _this_ line? I've heard him use it on several previous occasions that presently it is unoriginal. He is creative enough to do better. He is creative enough to hatch devious plots with our mutual comrade James Potter. Often they were disrespectful to our classmates, yet this year James has ceased somewhat. Sirius finds it less enjoyable without his 'partner in crime,' as he calls him, thus he seldom partakes in such infamous activities anymore. This pleases me, however, I cannot deny that instances when Sirius does elect to misbehave something about it is appealing. Bloody hell, everything about the boy is appealing! I can never utter that aloud. Not only is swearing discourteous, but no one is aware that I'm gay. Having lycanthropy causes me to be an abomination as it is; I do not need another abnormality on top of it. Fortunately, none of my mates question my lack of dating. They presume it is a result of my condition and I allow them to believe that.

She peers at him with curiosity from under thick eyelashes. "No, I wasn't."

"Well, then please start." See what I mean?

Beaming flirtatiously, she queries, "What would you like to talk about."

"You. Let's start with your ambitions, your dreams, your name…"

"Name's Tanya, and I really don't know anything that I want out of life yet." Unsure of herself? Uh-oh that means Sirius undoubtedly intends to use his more indiscreet phrases.

"Didn't anybody tell you that your life-long dream was to sleep with me? I thought you knew!"

Now she began giggling too. "You're awful."

"Awfully charming."

"True. You never told me your name."

"Sirius."

"_Oh, Sirius!"_ She moaned. He blinked at her, his captivating grey eyes bemused. I love that his eyes are grey because it's a hue that even a colourblind lycanthrope can see. "What? I'm pratising for later." Fantastic. She's a whore! Wait, did I think that? I refrain from judging people as often as possible, for I do not wish to be unjustly stereotyped. It must be the wolf's fault. I become wearier and more easily agitated impending transformation since I have PMS: Pre Moon Sickness.

I cannot bear to regard the sensuous boy any longer when his romantic attentions are not directed at me and never will be. Who would have fervor for a bookish homosexual teenage werewolf?

Peter is undertaking the effort of picking up a girl. It is a sight that swiftly moves me from jealousy to sympathy. On account of the notion that there are four Marauders he possesses a 'four strikes and I'm out' rule as opposed to the typical three. Consequently, four females are going to be momentarily tortured tonight and my buxom friend shall probably obtain four bruises.

"Do you know the difference between sex and conversation?"

"Nope."

"Wanna get out of here and talk?"

Slap. Strike one.

He indicates his forefinger and middle finger. "Why should a woman masturbate with these two fingers?"

"I don't know."

"'Cause they're mine."

Punch. Strike two.

"Do you have any English in you?"

"Nah."

"I'm English. Would you like some?"

Smack. Strike three.

"Do you like to sleep?"

"Yeah."

"Me too! We should try it together sometime."

Oh my gosh, this one is going to reply! "Maybe we should."

"Really?"

"Yep 'cause you're tall, dark and handsome. When it's dark you're handsome." She stalks off, irritated.

He shouts after her, "Know how they say skin is the largest organ? Not in my case!"

Strike four. He's out. Are you surprised? Didn't think so.

James propels Peter over to our table. "For Merlin's sake, spare Moony's virgin ears." He grins as he places one of the Butterbeers he went to retrieve in front of me.

"Thank you," I murmur affably, sensing a blush creep down my neck. I am indeed the sole inexperienced Marauder; I already explained my reasoning behind it, yet it is unnecessary for them to remind me of that information. Wondering about Peter's experience? Ah, well, he and this dame got drunk one evening…

"Prongs, you've gotta help me," pleads Peter. "None of these chicks fancy me." I cannot imagine why. I'd assist him, though my powers can only be used for good.

"I can't show you how it's done, Wormtail. I'm not gonna fool around anymore, remember? I've decided to wait for Evans to come around."

He mutters, 'Then you won't 'cum around' anytime soon."

"Hey!"

"Sorry, I just want your help." His confidence in James is endearing, yet I am under the impression that he should do some things for himself on occasion. "Can't you just tell me what to do?"

After taking a hearty swig of his beverage he sighs, "All right. First, don't ask 'Are you Natasha, my contact?' She'll never believe you're a spy. Secondly, don't say, 'I'm from the F.B.I. – the Fine Body Investigators – and I'm going to have to ask you to assume the position.' That only works for Americans. Third and most importantly, don't tell the bird, 'I have a magic watch that can talk to me. It's saying something now,' put your watch to your ear and add, 'It says you're not wearing any knickers. Is that true? No? Oh…That's 'cause my watch is an hour fast.'"

"I already learned what NOT to do the hard way. What _should_ I do?"

James whispers a suggestion into the smaller boy's ear to ensure that no nearby girls overhear. I witness him go up to the bar and smash an ice cube. He spins around to face the closest damsel. "Now that I've broken the ice will you talk to me?" To my stupefaction she does. I would not ever respond to such a flimsy line. Unless Sirius proclaimed it. Anything he did would work. Who am I fooling? Sirius has shagged more persons than he can count since he was too wasted on alcohol to recollect half of them. Naturally, I've counted. 23. Yes, 23 by the age of seventeen and every solitary one of them were girls. He has not let up on the flirting, however, he has restrained himself from making love lately. I've been curious as to why that might be.

"Dammit, earth to Moony!" James waves his hand in front of my face distracting my thoughts.

Not 'James to Moony'? Okay then. "Yes, Dammit-earth?"

"You ought to pick up a girl. With your quiet charm it wouldn't be hard."

I shake my head.

"Why not?"

"You know why not." At least you think you do.

"But it's fun; you'd see that if you gave it a try. Resistance is useless. Come to the Dark Side."

I chuckle softly. "Why would I join this Dark Side?"

"We have beer!" He finishes off his drink.

Ere I can answer such a ludicrous remark Peter and Sirius return appearing triumphant. "What's up?" greets Sirius. His voice is quite sexxxy and hott (I must include the Americans' unnecessary consonants.).

"Not much. Remus still refuses to seduce a babe," supplies James bluntly.

Sirius grins and I swear my heart literally stops for a moment. "Don't pressure innocent little Moony today. It's that time of the month."

Peter declares, "He won't throw himself at girls because he's already got a hot one."

Without invitation, James reaches over to my unfinished mug of bubbly liquid and sips it. "How is Sapphire, anyway?"

The attractive features of my love interest darken at the mention of my Ravenclaw acquaintance's name. I have yet to discover why he dislikes her.

"She's fine, and I don't 'have' her. We're just friends."

None of them look like they believe me. If only they knew.


	2. Chapter One

**Disclaimer:** To my dismay, the characters except Sapphire STILL aren't mine.

_**PMS: Pre Moon Sickness**_

Chapter One

Oh, yeah! Go me! I haven't thought about him for an entire six hundred forty-seven seconds. I rock!

Technically, that is envisaging him just now. I developed a strange affinity to him several months ago. I cannot let anyone discover it. What would they say? I'll tell you what they'd say: That he's my friend, my _male_ friend, and that my attraction is totally inappropriate.

I commence peering at him in admiration again. He is sitting on the window ledge of the dormitory. My best mate usually sits there, but James is in the kitchens with our short chubby companion getting us snacks. I prefer it when he sits there instead of James because Prongs leans against the windowpane and discusses his plans for our next prank. The individual that is currently holding my attention quietly sits there and gazes out of the window as if he can witness attributes no one else can rather than having his back to it. One slim leg is bent and pressing against his chest; the other leg is dangling off the sill. His arms rest folded atop the bent knee in silent contemplation.

He reflects instances within his mind frequently, yet rarely tells us what he's thinking about. He probably shall refrain from informing me if I ask, yet I inquire anyway as I always do if only to hear his quiet, melodious voice serenely proclaim it is naught for me to be concerned about.

"A knut for your thoughts?"

"Hmm?" He jerks out of his reverie. His stare shifts from the outside world to me. I want him to consider me his world. Many girls pray someday I shall consider them with that notion filtering through my mind. Unfortunately for them it is reserved for him. I only flirt with them for meaningless fun when there is nothing more entertaining to do. He deserves my love, and ultimately the love of someone more sensitive and compassionate than I am. He has so much suffering to cope with, and what does he do? He invariably assists other people despite the fact that he realises if they knew the cause of his agony they would shun him for it. That is what results in him being so beautiful...His perfect arse doesn't hurt either.

"Not cheap, eh?" I grin with my façade of an easy joking manner that was the only aspect that kept me sane in my hellhole some people refer to as a household. "How about a galleon for your thoughts?"

"It's nothing." Inwardly, I sigh. Didn't I tell you he would say that? Sometimes being correct all of the time is tiring.

"Don't tell me 'it's nothing.' You've got that faraway look on your face that means it's something serious."

"Sirius? You mean I'm thinking about you?" he quips.

I wish. "Hey, I'm the only one that's allowed to make lame puns with my name!"

His lips, his smooth sweet lips, curl upwards into a smile and I yearn to taste them more than ever before. I speculate that he has a specific smile just for me. Of course, that is more than likely one of my hopeful meditations. He unquestionably has the best sense of humour of anyone that I know. Not sadistic, as my Partner in Crime and I are said to have, simply pleasant. However, the smile fades and he becomes grave. "You really wanna know?"

He's truly going to share his private musings with me? He scarcely does that with anyone. I perceive his trust in me as the highest of compliments. I cross the room in four quick strides and stand beside him to show him he has my support if he requires it.

He glances up at me and my stomach does the familiar flip that his scrutiny causes. "It's just that…" His soft tone trails off and he is mute for so long that I doubt he is going to continue. Then, he queries, "What colour are my eyes?"

"What?" I goggle at him in complete bewilderment.

"What colour are my eyes?" he placidly repeats. How he manages to remain perpetually calm is something that I worship about him. Probably since I am aware that he works so tirelessly at it. He loathes being powerless to command the wolf during transformations, thus possessing self-control in his human form is immensely important to him.

"You don't know?" Not much fazes me, yet the very concept of lacking the knowledge of one's own eye colour is incredulous and outrageously depressing.

He shakes his head and his silky hair slides against one of his ivory cheeks. The left one; I can tell because of the thin pink scar on it that I desire to skim with my tongue. "You know my lycanthropy makes me colourblind. I can see that my skin is white and when I was young Mum would brush my hair and she told me it was light brown, but no one ever told me about my eyes."

I attempt to conceal my discomfort, though he is so observant I feasibly am unsuccessful. "You sure you want me to describe your eyes, Moony? They're supposed to be the 'gateway to a person's soul,' and I'm no poet. That's your thing."

"I'm sure," he confirms with undeniable certainty.

"Okay…" I select my words carefully knowing that he, with his excellent memory, shall presumably recall whatever I declare for the rest of his life. I despise responsibility when it comes from professors, though in this case I am honoured. "When you first wake up and when you're composed, which is most of the time, they're light blue, so I guess that's what most people would say they are, but they're wrong. When you're upset, such as before, during, and after full moons, they're dark azure-grey like the sky before a storm. You might expect your eyes to look that way if you are angry. Well, when you get mad they turn penetrating ultramarine, like the depths of the ocean, with hints of amber-gold. Although, they're an even deeper navy when you're lost in thought. They've got a turquoise, almost green tinge, on the rare occasions when you're feeling as mischievous as the rest of us. When you're happy they're cerulean with an overlying silver gloss like moonlight on the lake. The last is my favourite, but the mischief is a close second."

He blinks at me in mild surprise. Damn. Even a person that is not as insightful as him could comprehend that my feelings for him are not purely lackadaisical. He stands up and is so near to me I can feel his body heat creep across my skin. My heartbeat begins to accelerate. He vocalises nothing.

Usually, I am skilled at breaking silences, thus I add in an effort at comedy to lighten the awkward situation, "Told ya I was no bard. If you'd wanted a chat-up line that would've been easier:

Do you work for the post 'cause I could've sworn I saw you checking out my package?

You've got the whitest teeth I've ever wanted to cum across!

Do you wash your knickers in Windex since I can see myself in them?

Let's go to my place and do things I'll tell everyone we did anyway.

I could fall madly in bed with you.

Come here and get a taste of England's Most Wanted!

You should stop drinking 'cause you're taking m home.

Are you a hands-on learner? I am and I'd like to learn about you-" I cease speaking abruptly when his finger covers my lips. There is an expression on his handsome face that I cannot identify, which is odd since you must have observed how intently I've analyzed him.

"Padfoot, I-" The doorknob clicks open and he closes his sensual mouth. We avert our gazes from each other uncomfortably. I love my mates, though I want to throttle them for interrupting him.

"What do you mean I'm feminine?" demands a bespectacled boy as he deposits a sack of desserts on the nearest unmade bed. That means it cannot be Remus', for his is flawlessly tidy at all times, even when he sleeps in it. I hunger to sleep in there with him to mess it up.

"Well, you were giggling," the small lad following behind him squeaks apologetically.

"Haven't you ever heard of a masculine giggle?"

"No. I assumed there wasn't one."

"You know what happens when you assume; you make an ass of u and me."

Peter scratches his head, perplexed. The other laughs at him good-naturedly. Next, he cognizances me. "Padfoot, I was _giggling_, as Wormtail puts it, since I've got an idea."

"You do?" My comical personality replaces the vexation, and I turn to the window. "I think a pig just flew."

"That's a pathetic retort. Now, here's my idea: We put itching powder in the Slytherins' Quidditch robes."

"You've had better, but it's not bad. I'm in. You know Head Boys shouldn't do things like that."

"I'm in too!" squeals Peter.

"What about you, Remus?" My closest mate regards my love interest. "What's wrong? You look like someone died or that you're out of chocolate. They're pretty much the same in your case."

He is still focusing on the floor. "Nothing."

"Yeah right." James rolls the hazel eyes behind his glasses in obvious disbelief without prying for more information as I did earlier. "Come on. Let's sneak to Hogsmeade and get the stuff."

I head towards the exit with James and Peter when I recognise that he isn't following. "Aren't you coming?"

"No, thanks." He has to include the 'thanks.' So polite. Typical Remus.

"Why not?" prompts Peter.

"I've got things to think about." Oh no, I've distressed him, and so close to the full moon! I'm a git. I really am. A sexy git, but a git nonetheless.

"All right." Peter easily accepts this explanation.

"Want us to get you anything?" James offers. He's a nice bloke in spite of his self-centeredness. Evans ought to give him a chance; she's missing out.

"No…You could answer a question for me."

"Anything, Moony," assures James whilst Peter nods in agreement. Where is the beautiful werewolf going with this?

His eyelids gently shut. "What colour are my eyes?"

"I dunno." Peter shrugs. "Open your eyes and I'll tell you." He's never noticed the hue of someone's eyes that he's known for over six years? That's pitiful.

James bestows Remus with a quizzical look. "Uh, they're light blue. Why?" I knew most people would say that! I'm a genius!

The eyelids reopen. "Thank you. I understand everything now." Does he? He doubtlessly does. Why did I have to fall for a smart person?

Shit!

**Minerva's Note:** By now I'm sure you must know this was dear ol' Padfoot's point of view. 13 people already have this fic on their alert list; I know you're reading so please review too! I'm not looking forward to school & your reviews cheer me up!


	3. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer:** To my dismay, the characters except Sapphire will NEVER be mine.

_**PMS: Pre Moon Sickness**_

Chapter Two 

"I'm extremely sexy."

"Yes, you are."

"And brilliant."

"Indeed."

"And talented."

"Yeah."

"So why the bloody Hell doesn't Lily like me?"

"No one can resist you forever."

"Shut up," groans Sirius interrupting my conversation with Peter, which I was rather enjoying. Who doesn't delight in having a person agree with them about their magnificent attributes?

"What's got your knickers in a twist?" It can't be the meager fact that the shop was out of itching powder last night.

He does not answer; simply continues to glare across the grass where Sapphire and Remus are studying for the DADA test next period. We're outside since the weather is warm and sunny. Personally, I like to study elixirs. The Elixir of Life makes people immortal and the Elixir of Lust makes people immoral.

Sapphire is a Ravenclaw prefect one year behind ours. The boys know her for her golden hair, curvy figure, and sapphire eyes. The girls know her for her passive, caring personality. The professors know her for her impeccable grades.

She isn't my type. I prefer redheads to blondes and like somebody that will argue with me. Despite this, I cannot deny her appeal. She has the three S's. She's smart. She's sweet. She's sexy.

"I hate her."

'Why?" I ask Sirius for the millionth time. Well, perhaps I am exaggerating slightly: the nine hundred ninety-nine thousandth.

"She's a Mary-Sue."

Peter seems puzzled. "I thought her name was Sapphire."

"Whatever. She's spending too much time with Remus."

"You don't care that I wanna be with Lily," I point out.

"That's different."

"How?"

"…It just is!"

"Is there something wrong with Moony having a girlfriend?"

Quickly, too quickly, Sirius reminds us, "Remus said they weren't dating."

"That's 'cause he isn't the 'kiss and tell' sort. Do you honestly believe there's nothing going on?"

He regards the couple. Their heads are bent close over the same book. Every few moments they glance up at one another and smile warmly. "No."

Peter gasps, "Oh Merlin, you're jealous!" This is a good theory. It would explain a massive amount of his peculiar behaviour recently.

"Am not!" Or not.

"'Course you are, Padfoot, but what's the big deal? You can have almost any gal you want. Why not let Moony have one?" Wormtail supporting someone against Sirius or me? That does not occur often. Still, I agree with him.

Sirius attempts to appear appalled at the suggestion, yet succeeds only in looking constipated. "You think I'm attracted to the stupid, ugly bitch?" As I have already made clear to you, his summary of her is incredibly inaccurate.

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," states the small lad.

"Sometimes misinformed beholders need to be given black eyes," I add merrily. Did I just think 'merrily'? You need to help me! Get my pills! What? They're only M&Ms? Damn.

"You're bloody crazy," mutters my most cherished friend as he frolics away. Yep, frolics. Try it at some point in your existence and you shall realise what a ridiculous spectacle you are.

Peter regards me with worry in his eyes.

"I'll cheer him up," I assure. "Wait for me outside the DADA classroom since that's where we go next."

"Okay," he says complacently.

I stroll down the vacated corridor after Sirius, transfiguring one of my spare quills into an ice cube with ease. I think it would be amusing to drop it down the back of Sirius' robes. For inexplicable reasons Sirius does not consider it half as humourous as I do.

"What was that for, prat?"

"I gotta talk to you."

"About what?"

"You've been acting weird lately; you're having mood swings all of the time and not shagging chicks, and then Peter made the comment about you being jealous; it makes sense, you know?"

"No, I don't know! I told you I don't want that 'oh so fair maiden.'"

"But if you're jealous of Moony and Saphy and it isn't her you want…" Everything clicks in my head and fits itself together like a puzzle. A miniature Dumbledore, the figure that represents wisdom, jumps up and down in the back of my mind waving a flag. "You fancy Remus." I feel light-headed with shock for a second. Then I become aware that I truly should not be. He was invariably more concerned for Remus during full moons than Peter or I were and he only ceases his reckless antics if Remus requests it.

The blood drains from Sirius' face. "Even if that made sense it'd be stupid."

"Sometimes stupid things are smart."

"THEN WHY ARE THEY CALLED STUPID?"

"BECAUSE I LIKE ROASTING MARSHMALLOWS!"

"WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH IT?"

"I DON'T KNOW!"

"YOU'RE STUPID!"

"YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH REMUS!" When he falls silent my voice softens. "Aren't you?"

Reluctantly, he sighs, "I'm not sure I know what love is, Prongs, but I think so."

"Do you know all of the little things about him? That's love; appreciating the details."

"Yeah, I do, like his eyes aren't light blue." I raise an eyebrow, however, I refrain from remarking as he continues, "He probably already knows, but if you tell him I'll kill you, best mate or not. That means dead, perished, deceased, passed on, gone to the light at the end of the tunnel, kicked the bucket, gone to Davey Jone's locker, lost your favourite bottle cap! Understand?"

"I understand everything except that 'lost my favourite bottle cap' isn't a euphemism to describe death."

"Euphemism? I didn't know you knew that word."

"Shove it." I punch his forearm playfully. "I won't tell him, but you should."

He gapes at me as if I randomly decided to die my hair neon green and dance the hula, which I would never do…Okay, that was _one_ time! "I don't know if he fancies blokes."

"True," I admit. "He's got to dig boys too if you care about him so much. Fate wouldn't be so cruel to such great people." I'm an optimist.

"What if you're wrong?" He brightens, being a natural optimist himself. How could he have survived the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black if he wasn't? "What if you're right?"

"We'll find out."

"We will?" he inquires apprehensively.

"Mmm-hmm. Right after my Head Boy duties."

**Minerva's Note:** Yep, this was Prongs! Did you like it? Did you dislike it? Let me know!


	4. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer:** Nothing is mine. Don't you understand by now?

_**PMS: Pre Moon Sickness**_

Chapter Three 

I cease my irascible pacing in the library and lean against the nearest bookcase. He's late. I'm not surprised. Why Dumbledore made him the Head Boy I'll never comprehend. Maybe the deities are punishing me for what I said to my horse-faced sister at her wedding. I could not resist the temptation, for she had insulted me, and I possess a fiery temperament to match my hair.

She'd said, "You should do some soul-searching. Maybe you'll find one. A normal one."

Consequently, I'd retorted, "Thanks for the advice, Sis." I examined her expensive wedding gown. "Oh, God!"

"I look fantastic, I know."

"Just look at you! Was anyone else hurt in the accident?"

I was merely defending myself. "Do I actually deserve to be punished for that?" I murmur aloud, not anticipating a response.

"Of course not." Merlin, I loathe that voice…Well, the voice itself is rather delightful; it's the individual that it belongs to that I abhor.

"Potter," I acknowledge, "you're late." I expect him to elaborate on the 'punish' remark by adding something to the effect of, "You've been a naughty girl? Go to my room!"

Instead, he states, "I'm sorry." Huh? What? James Potter apologising! "One of my mates and I had to discuss something important."

"A prank?" I sniff disapprovingly.

"Nope. Personal issue. Love life."

"Oh?" I am curious despite myself as a result of a hypothesis that was mentioned to me recently. "Were you talking to Remus?"

His hazel eyes gleam quizzically behind his spectacles. I never noticed the hue before. They're rather nice…Wait! NOTHING about Potter is attractive! "Why do you ask?"

"Sapphire told me-" I commence speaking and stop abruptly. I had promised not to tell anyone. Potter is one of Remus' closest comrades, though. Certainly he must already be aware of it?

"Told you what?" he prompts.

"Well…" I hesitate a moment longer. If Sapphire is correct, which is probable, Remus would require someone to confide in. I might not be fond of Potter, yet I know that Remus is. "She thinks Remus is gay." He grins like a maniac, looking much more pleased about it than is warranted. "Are you interested in Remus and only asking me out constantly to cover up your sexuality?" I believe Lupin promenades nude within the dark crypts of Snape's imagination on account of the fact that Remus attracts the most bizarre people. I never figured on Potter.

He chuckles. It's an amiable sound. "No, I'm definitely positive about who I fancy." Our gazes lock and I feel heat slowly creep up my neck. What is wrong with me? I disgust myself. Fortunately, I salvage some of my dignity since James – no, Potter - looks away first. "Are there any pressing Hogwarts matters to attend to?" He's focusing on work? At least he isn't focusing on Remus. That would be creepy considering that Lupin is his mother figure.

"Not right now. We just need to patrol the corridors."

"All right. Shall I start in the Great Hall?" Getting straight to business without any attempt at dalliance?

"I guess." My voice seems strange even to my own ears.

"Something wrong?"

"No," I snap without intending to.

He appears mildly offended, however, his concern for me outweighs his pride. "Something is." I cannot inform him. His ego would become larger than it already is. "Well?" I might as well tell him so he will go away and leave me to ponder my muddled thoughts.

"You haven't asked me out in three weeks, which is a record for you. Even in the summer you'd owl me."

James' – no, Potter's – cocky grin materialises. "Miss it?"

The problem is that I do. Yes, he infuriates me, but when someone flirts with you perpetually since fifth year you develop a familiarity with his or her attention. "Of course not. Don't flatter yourself."

The grin broadens. "You're lying."

"You're delusional."

"You're interested."

"You're arrogant."

"You're gorgeous."

"You're…what?"

"You're gorgeous. And brilliant. And kind." What do I say to that? "I shouldn't make such an angel suffer. If it means that much to you I'll hit on you again." Before my mentality can process a witty retort he strides closer to me. I can feel the heat from his body and it causes my heart to thud between my breasts with an emotion I fail to recognise, possibly because I have never felt it before. What's the matter with me? It's doubtless the fault of the hormones since my monthly cycle is forthcoming. Those darn hormones invariably result in me feeling peculiar. On one occasion I felt that doing the tango in a swimming pool on Boxing Day while eating a cheese factory seemed appealing. Not the cheese, the factory itself.

"You never give up, do you?" I meant for my comment to sound brisk, though it came it too breathy.

"No." He leans forward and his untidy black bangs brush against my forehead. Is it just me or is the room spinning? You _must_ be able to feel it also! Just me? Oh no, that indicates he's having an effect on me! "I'm usually impatient, but some things are worth waiting for and worth fighting for." His fingertips brush against my hand. "Lily Evans, will you go out with me?"

I need to escape from whatever he's doing to me and I need to do it now. I push past him and gait out of the library without a backward glance. He calls after my retreating back, "So, this Saturday at eight, then?"

I don't trust myself to speak, thus I turn my head around and nod curtly at Ja-Potter – Oh, I give up! - James. I disappear from view to make my rounds. I hear a whoop of glee, yet that is most likely a fabrication.

I discover naught unusual, ergo I trudge back to the Gryffindor common room both praying and dreading that I'll meet James there. I do view Marauders as I ambled through the portrait hole; however, he is not one of them.

"What do you mean macaroni is the root of all evil?" Sirius Black demands. "Everyone knows lasagna is the root of all evil because Garfield likes it so much."

Remus regards Sirius with curiosity. I rather like Remus. He is always courteous and never permits his temper to get the better of him. I need to work on that. "You know that isn't what I said. Why are you changing the subject?"

"Because I think your arse is fat."

"That's over the line."

"Don't talk to me about the line! You crossed it so long ago that the line is now a dot."

"By doing what?"

"By taking your inexperienced, pretty little self around and-"

"You think I'm pretty?"

Ignoring him, Sirius continues, "-getting yourself screwed by a slut."

His tone remains placid, though Remus' eyes harden. "I've told you to stop insulting Sapphire. I'm close to her."

"Oh, I've seen how 'close' the two of you are. Alone for a few seconds and I bet you can't get your Chudly Cannon shorts off fast enough!" (The Chudly Cannons? The Weasleys will be impressed!)

"It isn't like that. Even if it were you have no right to complain about it. I actually know Sapphire's name, which is more than you can say about most of the twenty-three girls you've shagged, but do I say one word to you about it? About how disrespectful it is to women? About how you're risking getting diseases? About how much it hurts me?" He stops as if he frets he said too much. Abruptly, he turns on his heel and walks up the boys' staircase.

What just happened? It resembled a lover's quarrel, though that's impossible. Isn't it? I recall James' reaction to Sapphire's deduction and everything clicks in my head and fits itself together like a puzzle. A miniature Dumbledore jumps up and down in the back of my mind waving a flag. "How could you be so unfair to someone that loves you?"

Black spins around, noticing my presence for the first time. "What?"

I elaborate, "Even James could've handled that better."

A smirk spreads across his face and he lifts one dark eyebrow, a display that would surely cause my dorm mates to faint. It does not affect me in the slightest bit. "Calling him James now, are you?"

_That_ affects me. I am under the impression that Sirius considers the tinge on my cheeks worth the glare that I send him. "I'm going to find him to get him to talk some sense into you. No one else can." I exit the common room, determined.

**Minerva's Note:** Yes, that was dear Lily and she saw our fave canines arguing! Review and tell me what you thought of the chapter or I shall lash you with my famous wet noodle! By the way, only the epilogue remains, and remember whose perspective I said that would be? This is a JamesLily and RemusSirius fic, which is why I am not doing Peter's point of view.


	5. Epilogue

**Disclaimer:** Everything is mine now! MWAHAHAHA! What? That was only a dream? Oh...Unfotunately, it all still belongs to JKR. If it was mine do you think would Remus be with Tonks instead of Sirius in the books? Right.

_**PMS: Pre Moon Sickness**_

Epilogue 

I am seated on my bed hugging my knees to my chest. How could I presume that since Sirius described my eyes so eloquently he feels platonic towards me? I am off my rocker. In fact, I broke my rocker, so I took it, sold it to a Russian bloke, and burned a hole in the floor where it used to be.

The door opens. It's Sirius. The universe hates me. I state, "Listen, I shouldn't have gotten so angry. I care about Sapphire, but if it really bothers you that we're friends then I won't talk to her anymore." I cannot bear to have any of my comrades upset with me, especially him. I know this would not be chivalrous treatment of her, though I am willing to do anything to please Sirius. Unwise, yet true whether I like it or not.

"No." He comes over to my four-poster and sits beside me, though not close enough for us to touch. "Don't do that and don't be sorry. I'm the one that should be apologising, not you. Why do you always think everything is your fault?"

I shrug. I am not certain of the answer myself. There's a silence. An awkward silence. A long awkward silence. A pathetically long awkward silence. I glance up at Sirius through a curtain of what I'm told is light brown hair, expecting him to break the tension as usual.

He does. "Prongs and Evans are both sure of something."

"Oh?" Mentioning James and Lily's names in the same sentence typically means trouble.

"Yeah…" His sensual voice trails off.

"You look constipated." That occurs more frequently than it should. "Maybe you ought to go to the infirmary and get some drugs."

"I tried, but Madame Pomfrey wouldn't give me any, nor would she let me leave until I put a hospital gown on and played doctor with her," replied the dog animagus, twisting his fingers in uncharacteristic distress.

"Is that why you've seemed odd lately?"

"Nah. What Evans and James assure me is that you're interested in me. I don't know about that, but I've thought about it and I do know that I've fallen in love with you 'cause I feel empty when you're not around and I wanna kick anyone's arse that tries to get into your pants, but if _I_ were to get into them…Well, that'd be acceptable. More than acceptable." That's my beloved Sirius: blunt beyond belief. His tone had been cool and smooth, though it is obvious he's nervous. I'm anxious also; convinced that I heard him inaccurately.

"W-what?"

He cups my face in his strong hands with more gentleness than I expect from him. Gazing into my eyes to ensure that I do not misunderstand, he says, "I love you, Moony." He connects our lips ere I can reply. His sumptuous tongue explores my mouth, clearly savouring the moment like he'll never receive another opportunity to kiss me. I use my own tongue to caress his in reassurance, barely realising what I am doing. My brain shuts off and all I perceive is, 'Oh Merlin, this is amazing! Oh Merlin, this is amazing! Oh Merlin, this is amazing! Oh Merlin, the girls are gonna join together to kill me slowly!'

To my stupefaction Sirius pulls away first, desiring clarification. He grins. "So, you love me too?" It seems unnecessary to inquire; I nod regardless. I would speak, however, mere breathing is currently a challenge. He leans forward to buss me again.

"Sirius, wait." He cocks his head in confusion causing himself to resemble his dog counterpart. I have no doubt that this shall sound foolish, yet I articulate it anyway. "Will you say some chat-up lines to me? I've always been jealous of the girls you say them to."

"Sure," he chuckles. "When I saw you from across the room I passed out and hit my head on the floor, so I'm going to need your name and address for insurance reasons."

I do not have many phrases committed to memory, yet I try my best to retort. "How charming. When I'm older I'll look back on my best experiences: the day I was married, the day my children were born, and the day I met you."

"That's sweet. So, you don't mind if I stare at you up close instead of from across the room?"

"Of course not because this is the first time this ever happened to us. All twenty-seven of my personalities find you attractive." We pursue this banter for several minutes until I say, "I've never had sex. No matter what you do, kiss me all over, dance for me, or wear provocative outfits, I won't give in. Want to test me?" I only stated it as an amusing line, though Sirius takes it literally.

"It would be my pleasure to test you." The suggestive inflection in his voice makes me blush. He puts his hand on my bent knees and shoves them down to force my legs flat. His hand drifts to my torso and he slowly pushes me onto my back. His handsome figure glides over my prostrate form so that our bodies are pressed together. His grey eyes are dark with lust.

I hasten to explain that this is not my intention. "I only said that to be funny. Rules of courtesy dictate that it's too soon in our relationship for this."

"Screw courtesy." It's me I worry he's going to screw. I've fantasised about this, though I confessed my emotions a short while ago, after all.

"Padfoot, this isn't-"

"Shh." He brings his lips to mine with more passion and aggression than before. The dance of our moist tongues and my fingers in his silky hair command my attention and I do not comprehend how my shirt gets removed and winds up on the floor revealing a chest that is fairly more muscular than you probably speculate. What you do not conceive is how much strength it involves to carry as many books around the castle as I do.

Sirius' mouth shifts from mine and his breath skims across the scar on my left cheek with a reverence that leads me to believe he has wished to do that for a vast amount of time. Next, he sucks on my neck. I murmur something that might have been an oath or may have been his name. Whatever it is causes him to smirk into my flesh. If we do not cease in a couple of seconds I'll lose the ability to resist him any further. This should be a positive prospect, yet something about this feels rushed. I open my mouth to tell him that, however, there is no air in my lungs. His teeth graze my nipple and I gasp.

That breath is precisely what I require. "Don't..."

"Don't do what?" Grinning provocatively, Sirius proceeds to kiss down my abdomen to the waistband of my trousers. His tone is husky with desire. "This?" He grinds our hardened groins together. I feel it acutely in spite of the fabric obstructing their contact. Spots of colour cloud my vision. Colour? For a brief moment Sirius Orion Black bestowed me with the benefit of witnessing colour. He fails to recognise the priceless gift he gave and slides his hand inside of my trousers to grope me. I whimper uncontrollably with ecstasy. Satisfied, he fondles me more vigourously. My eyes roll back and my mind partially numbs. I cannot remember my own name, though I recollect his.

With the last of my waning self-control I beg, "Please, Siri, no." The pleading note in my voice is what finally draws his focus away from my impassioned body. He glances up the length of my figure to my face. "I'm enjoying this."

"I noticed." There's that self-assured grin that makes me want to slap and kiss him simultaneously.

My cheeks become heated again. "But…"

He takes his hand out of my shorts, pulls himself upward, and positions himself so that his form is hovering above mine with our lips centimetres apart. "But what?"

I whisper, "But I'm not ready yet."

"No, you're not." Sirius expels a defeated, disappointed sigh. "I should've known that." My heart constricts, fearing that I've thwarted his expectations. I needn't have fretted, for seconds later his mouth moves near my ear and he purrs softly with the easy confidence that he and James have always flaunted, "Maybe not for a while, but sooner than you think I _will_ have you, my polite, innocent little Moony."

A shiver of arousal travels up my spine. "Yes," I rasp. As if he needs any more encouragement. He sits up and hands me my discarded shirt. No sooner do I don it that the dorm door reopens.

James enters, which is unsurprising, though the identity of his companion baffles me. It is not Peter, who is in detention.

"What's the problem, Lily?" James regards Sirius' ruffled hair, my flushed skin, and our swollen lips with a sly smirk. "I see no need to talk sense into anyone."

She sighs, relieved. "Well, they worked things out, then. I was just thinking-"

"Don't. Earth could explode," returns Sirius.

I swat his shoulder lightly. "Be nice."

He peers down his perfect nose into my eyes with his constant smile in place. "Anything you want."

A rare mischievous look graces my features. "Be careful what you promise."

Everyone chuckles.

James declares, "This has been a swankified day for all of us. Let's celebrate."

"How?" queries Lily warily.

"We could leave Hogwarts grounds and apparate to Muggle town and go to a cinema."

Lily is impressed. "You know about movies?"

"Yes, and we're not going," Sirius loudly announces.

She fixes him with a questioning expression.

I explain, "I took him to the theatre once and he thought the big people were going to reach out of the screen and tickle him."

"Riiiight. We'll do something else."

"How about recite poetry?" I recommend.

Sirius and James groan in revulsion, as I knew they would.

"Okay," she agrees most likely to irritate them.

They protest in unison, "We don't want-"

She interjects, "One of my poems is:

People are annoyed by my responsible manner,

So I beat them with a hammer.

Something to learn from this (don't scoff)

Is to never piss me off."

James pales. "Shakespeare or Po?"

**Minerva's Note:** What did you think about Moony and Padfoot's escapade? I hope you enjoyed it and the entire chapter! Please please please please please please please please please (You get the idea.) review!


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